You'll thank me when it's Saturday
by bitterfloof
Summary: The breath caught in Church's throat as the pain in his head grew. People kept yelling and the agony in his head grew before, quite suddenly too, the truck was there, and Church didn't feel a thing. [Alternative Universe]


**NOTE: CROSSPOSTED ON AO3**

* * *

The scenery rolled by in a green and grey blur, the gentle bounce/shake/rock of the train carriage stopping Church from falling asleep in his seat - which might have been a good thing since he was so beyond tired. Thank god it was Friday. Church never appreciated that phrase before leaving high school and getting a job. God, being an adult was weird.

Pulling slightly at the tie he wore (Tex always tied it for him and too tight at that - probably indicative of her wanting to choke him 9 times out of 10), Church sighed and lay his head down on the small pull-down table in front of him. He'd squashed himself into the tightly compact seats behind the set of four in a hope that nobody would sit next to him. He really couldn't be bothered with people being near him.

". . . Please mind the gap when alighting from the train."

Another train ride after the one he was on - then a 20-minute bus. It was a good thing he liked his job or else he would have given it up within the first month or so. The bones in his back cracked as he stood up stretching to grab his bag from the rack above him before going to stand by the train doors.

"This is . . ." The automated voice announcing the trains arrival as it slowed into the station. Church was one of the few people to get off the train at that specific station and in the chill morning air with the early fog still present, made the place feel eerily haunted (even with the people on the other side of the tracks waiting on the opposite train). Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, Church scrolled through any notifications. A few emails (mostly junk), game notifications (he'd deal with them on the train), pictures from Tucker and Wash (stuck in traffic on the way to uni) - nothing that important really.

"The next train approaching platform two is the 7:35 train to . . ."

Another 10 minutes of standing about (couldn't they provide chairs or something). He couldn't even listen to music since his headphones had suspiciously been broken and he hadn't got any replacements, so he was stuck standing in silence - joy.

It was a few minutes before the train arrived when somebody came running onto the platform, they were breathing a little heavily - must have proper sprinted - before sitting down on the ground of the platform. Church could hear the music they had been listening to from the headphones that had clearly fallen out of the person's ear when they had been running (it was some weird metal song, the sound of the guitars gave it away; not the sort of thing Church listened to by any means). The stranger looked up at Church and smiled widely.

"Good morning."

"Ugh, yeah," he gave a little grimace-smile, the kind Tucker made fun of him for, before taking a few steps away from the person and taking his phone out again. More pictures from Tucker and Wash (they'd make it to uni if a little late) but there was nothing else worth looking at but it was better to pretend to be using his phone than make occasional awkward eye contact with some stranger on a train platform.

"The train now approaching platform 2 is the 7:35 train to . . ."

Church had never been so happy to see a train in his life. Any form of awkward situation avoided by blending into a crowd on the train . . .

Which he totally would have done if the train wasn't packed to the brim with only a small space next to the doors for someone to stand. Both Church and his platform companion had to squash themselves into that small space - which was totally the most fun thing Church ever had to do. Totally didn't make him feel 3x smaller than he was because, oh crikey, was the other guy tall. Somehow just folding himself into the space with Church in front of him.

Trains officially sucked.

Thankfully it was only a short train ride before Church could once again extract himself from the tightly packed carriage (it might have been the only time he was thankful for his slight, short stature - not that he'd ever admit it). People emptied out onto the platform, including that one guy he'd been stuck next to. He wore a dark blue hoodie with the name of the local university emblazoned across the chest - yeah, made it very difficult to guess where he was heading - and carried a black backpack which was decorated with different pins and keychains causing it to jingle as the guy walked up the stairs.

Church couldn't help but stare at it as the person turned a corner and walked away, bag jingling as he went. Church stood for a few moments, watching the person disappear into the distance before heading the opposite direction. An odd feeling came over Church, one that he couldn't really explain. Something of familiarity but the same time not - it was weird. Either way, he tried to put it out of his mind since he still had a day of work to get through.

* * *

The day was . . . annoying to say the least. It felt like he had done nothing but take support calls and didn't do much programming which was what he was being paid for. He wasn't paid for support. Thankfully it was officially the end of the day and the end of the week - and thank god for Monday to Friday jobs.

He made it back to the train station with relative ease only to see police cars and ambulances surrounding the area. A small group of university students were being questioned by a police officer off to the side and some random bystanders were standing about watching the occurrence - Church however really didn't care much. He just wanted to go home. Skirting around the crowd, he headed for the stairs to the train station only to have somebody stop him.

"Sir, the train station is currently closed."

"What? How come?"

"An accident. A bus service has been brought in to replace the trains, it should be by shortly."

That must have been what the people were standing about for, not just bystanders but also waiting for the bus (which was always a nightmare since replacement bus services were actual shit). Church didn't say anything to the police officer who stopped him, instead just headed away from the scene fully intending to call somebody, probably Tucker and Wash and see if they could give him a lift - fuck buses honestly.

Pulling out his phone, Church began to cross the road without looking up. He was about half way across when there was a piercing ache in his head and suddenly people were shouting at him. Looking up to see who was yelling, Church came face to face with an oversized truck that was hurtling towards him. The breath caught in Church's throat as the pain in his head grew. People kept yelling and the agony in his head grew before, quite suddenly too, the truck was there, and Church didn't feel a thing.

* * *

"Hey! You're gonna be late!"

Church's eyes snapped open. He felt weird. His body aching like he'd been thrown down some stairs or the early onset of flu. Either way, it made him not want to leave his bed which was warm and cozy. But he knew he had to since, well, work was a thing. And Tex was right, he was probably going to be, if not already was, late. Church's body moved almost automatically, mechanical, everything felt like he'd done it all before.

It was like déjà vu, but more long-lasting. It was kind of freaking Church out. Everything in his head was a foggy haze and not in the same just-woken-up way that it normally was. It was past the point of déjà vu which normally lasted for a few seconds - this. This was bordering on a few minutes which was clearly not right.

Sluggishly he began to get dressed, that weird feeling creeping up his spine. It was like he was being guided through everything. What clothes he picked out, the way Tex tied his tie, the way he needed to run to catch his train, the way he folded himself into one of the crappy train seats. Every little thing felt like he'd done it all before.

Man, it must have been the weirdest most realistic dream he'd ever had.

From one train ride to another platform. Then Church saw him and for some reason couldn't look away, the tall blonde university student sprinting to the train platform. A headache was building at the base of Church's skull and it made him feel vaguely sick - he'd seen that person before.

Right?

"Good morning!" The person announced cheerily, and Church had to shake himself out of the funk he'd found himself - he was staring because . . . well, the guy did look oddly familiar and it was really annoying that Church didn't have any clue as to why.

Not that he had much time to debate on it as the second train of the day pulled into the station. Packed to the gunnels and Church was pushed up close to the mysterious blonde guy.

His headache didn't let up at all - if anything it got worse.

* * *

Monday passed with an obnoxious sloth like momentum. Each moment dragged out endlessly and Church could 100% swear that everything had happened before. Each ring of a phone. Each pointless conversation. Somebody dropping their coffee mug and the annoying voice of the new guy. They were all things that had been done before - so much so Church began mouthing along to the conversations he had heard before. Mimicking and mocking that - whilst fun - unnerved him to no end.

He should not have been able to do that.

Yeah, it had to be more than déjà vu. That phenomenon was not that powerful to have the feeling last and keep on lasting. Hell, he even knew the exact moment his phone would light up when Tex texted him about what they were doing for dinner since Church had forgotten to buy stuff.

He asked for Chinese. Just like he had the Monday before. And the Monday before that. And the . . . He didn't even want to think about it.

It was clear he was distracted, he kept making mistakes in his code, going back and changing things that normally would have a been a breeze to do. He could write the silly code in his sleep - but fuck, his brain was just elsewhere. The end of the week could not come soon enough.

The end of the week did not come soon.

Tuesday dragged on again. With the only difference being that the blonde guy he saw normally wasn't there on the platform. Not that Church really minded - just meat he wouldn't need to be forced into some sort of awkward conversation. So, it wasn't exactly a dreadful thing. The whole situation was still swirling around in his mind in the strangest of ways and he kept asking himself the same questions, but it wasn't like he was getting answers to those questions either.

So, the week dragged on. Tuesday rolled into Wednesday - that blonde guy reappeared again - Wednesday turned into Thursday and the week continued the monotonous way that it had before and the week before that and . . . the constant looking back was beginning to get tiresome and by the time Friday rolled around Church was 100% done (not to say he hadn't been done before then, Friday's just exemplified it. Those didn't change either.

The day had been the same less than perfect that Church could remember from before. So many support calls, he shouldn't have even been on support, he was a programmer, not a support assistant - so to say Church was thankful to leave for the day would have been a gross underestimate. He was so, totally 100% done. On top of that he was also late out of work, stuck telling somebody that remote access to their desktop could only be done with their approval and it hadn't been approved so he couldn't do anything. It was stupid and time-consuming and made Church kind of want to strangle the lady through the phone.

The short walk towards the bus stop would have been pleasant enough but over the course of the day dark clouds had formed and a light smattering of rain just continued to make a shit day even shittier - maybe it was time to invest in a car . . . and maybe some driving lessons. Church was just crossing the road towards the bus stop when an alarm on the watch he wore went off. He looked down at the time, stopping dead in the middle of the road.

"Son of a-"

He didn't feel the bus hit him.

* * *

Monday. Shit.

Tuesday. Shit.

Wednesday. Less shit.

Thursday. Okay.

Friday. Absolute bottom of the barrel garbage. Why? Because he was hit by a freaking glider of all things. Came out of nowhere and boom - barrelled right into Church knocking him (quite literally) into next week. Or the same week.

It was getting tiresome and by god did he feel it. Waking up on Monday and aching like he'd gone a couple rounds with Tucker in a fight (muscle was one thing Church lacked). But nope, it was just the leftover feeling from that Friday as he was pulled back in time to do it all over again.

What made it worse was that he had no idea why. Why on earth this was happening to him. What he was being punished for - if he was being punished - or what he was meant to do - if he was meant to do something. It made absolutely no sense. So, by . . . whatever Wednesday it might have been, Church decided to tell somebody (after all it wasn't like it mattered, nobody could remember anything except him). Somebody meant telling Wash (and Tucker because those two were sort of joined at the hip since they had moved in together).

"You know déjà vu, right?"

Church managed to drag Wash away from his studies enough to allow Church into the tiny flat he called his home - reluctantly though.

"Yeah, why?" Straight in with the questions.

"Because I am pretty sure I have just lived the same week over a fucking tone of times and this is the first time I decided to do something different with it."

"Well if you decided to do something different - then it's not the same. Is it?"

Church looked over to Tucker, shooting him a face of complete displeasure. Then again he was also not wrong but it wasn't like Church was ever going to admit that one to the smug face of Tucker (who no way in hell would ever let being right go. Especially to Church) so instead Church shook his head and glared deeply towards Tucker.

"That's not the point. Every day is the same. I wake up and do the same things and then on Friday I run late, get woke up by Tex, see some blonde guy on the train, have a shitty day at work and then get knocked back to Monday just to do it all over again."

From his rant he looked up to Wash and Tucker who were looking between each other and Church shooting vague looks of concern in all directions - it was a bit insulting because Church, not needing to have had the conversation before, knew what was going to come out of Tucker's mouth before he even needed to say it.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No - it's just what's been happening and it's weird."

"Maybe it's just been a dream. Like a recurring dream," Wash suggested more gently than Tucker's accusation, but Church simply shook his head. Why did he think it was a clever idea to tell them again? Oh, wait, because they were the only friends he had. Kind of shitty, but friends nonetheless. At least telling somebody made him feel a little less crazy.

That was a lie.

He felt positively nuts.

And nothing had changed. It really wasn't like telling somebody was going to change anything. That much Church knew - and he still needed to work out a way to stop everything and just live a normal life again. And he'd do it without the help of anybody it seemed.

Great.

Well, at least they'd all never remember the conversation.

* * *

So, Goals.

He needed to work out why this was happening. He couldn't keep living the same week over and over. It was beginning to get really fucking tiresome. Especially the Friday because he knew what was going to happen - something was going to send him back to Monday just for him to do it all over again.

And that was fucking annoying!

It wasn't even the whole having to live the same week over again - but it was that the week it happened to fall on just so happened to be one of the shittiest he had. So, he kept reliving the same shitty week over and over before being sent back again. Maybe he was being punished? That seemed almost logical - but for what? He couldn't, in clean conscious, remember doing anything particularly bad or worthy of punishment (except maybe taking pens from the office but who was to know about that).

It just didn't make sense at all.

The Friday working day came and went as it did for the last however fuck times it had been. Slowly and with a shit tone of support calls. He made it back to the train station - the same amount of police cars and ambulances. This time Church didn't bother to find out what happened, he already knew.

Then it hit him.

The car that was.

* * *

Church's eyes opened before Tex was shouting at him.

Life had come to a standstill and if it had been tiresome before, it was positively draining. Church had discovered that, on top of the constant being thrown back in time, he never got a freaking weekend. Work ended, and he was right back to Monday. Sure, there were plenty of people who worked 7 days a week, but he was not one of them. He needed his downtime and the constant work, work, work. Church just couldn't function like that; his mind was wearing down and everything just needed a moment of peace and clarity. So, if the week itself wasn't going to change - then Church was going to make it so.

He could hear Tex shouting on him that he was going to be late, so he ignored her. Lay in bed and didn't shift. So, what if he was going to miss his train. So, what if he was going to be late. Not that it mattered any. Hell, he could go out and kill somebody, become a mass murderer, rob a couple of shops, go to jail. None of it would matter before no doubt, even in the depths of a jail cell - he would be pulled back once again to his bed on the Monday morning where he would have slept in if it weren't for Tex waking him up - and that was just . . . glorious.

"Seriously, you're going to be late!"

Slowly, Church peeled himself out of bed and got ready. Deciding to forego the tie he normally wore to work. Instead, choosing a ratty pair of jeans and worn soft sweatshirt. Monday was going to be a casual day. One of comfort. He left his flat knowing that Tex was gaping at him and slowly made his way to the train station - missed the train by ten minutes, would have to wait for the next one.

Oh well.

It felt nice to take things slow. Maybe he'd go out drinking after work. Nothing wrong with drinking on a Monday. Who said it was a problem? Whoever it was probably hadn't lived the same week repeatedly. Drinking seemed like a terrific way to pass some time. Even if he had to deal with work hung over. So yeah, he'd go for a drink later.

If life was determined to shit on him constantly, might as well make it a little fun.

His boss, however, did not take kindly to Church's lack of effort. But all the shouting couldn't really get him to care much. He walked in a good half an hour late, dressed 'inappropriately' (were jeans that inappropriate when all he did was sit at a desk the entire day) and was told not to do it again.

"Maybe I should just piss away the day?" Church thought to himself as he waited for his computer to load. He stared at the standard issue background of his work, the company logo, before sighing. God that background was dull - maybe something should be done about it . . .

* * *

By the end of the day, Church hadn't done any of the work he was meant to. Gave false help to any support calls and generally spent the day doing nothing of interest. And then, as planned, went out drinking.

Just on his own. There was a small pub down from where his work was situated. It was a bit of a dive and usually filled with students but by then, Church didn't care in the slightest. It was a place he could get drunk and that's all that mattered.

He was onto his 4th or 5th drink when it started going to his head - all those years challenging Wash had paid off - things were getting that fun fuzzy way and any sort of worry was melting away into the bottom of a glass. He was just bordering on the edge of drunk when he noticed a familiar face across the room - that blonde guy who always wished him a good morning. He hadn't seen him that morning giving that he was late but there was no mistaking him, squashed into a corner surrounded by a bunch of university students all wearing matching hoodies with the places name stamped across the chest - it was kind of obnoxious.

"Thank god Wash and Tucker never did that when they were first years," Church thought to himself, downing the last of his drink.

When he looked up again the group of students and the train guy were gone. Maybe he's been inside his own head longer than he thought. Pushing himself away from the table he was at, Church headed for the door, stumbling as he went. It had been a while since he'd gotten properly drunk, a feeling, it seemed, he didn't miss. Somehow, he made it to the train station without falling into traffic (that was the last thing he needed). Flopping into one of the cold metal chairs, Church noticed a familiar blonde head.

"Train guy!" He announced without thinking and the guy turned, it wasn't like there was anybody else he could be shouting at. "Hey!"

"Hello." That guy was just as cheery as he was in the morning - or maybe Church was just that drunk that everybody seemed that way (it was highly likely).

"Small world. You were at . . . Em, the place, drinking. I was there too! Then you disappeared but here you are!"

The blonde guy laughed and moved to sit down next to Church. Standing Church felt dwarfed by the guy, sitting didn't make much either. Most people were generally put off by somebody drunk trying to talk to them - that guy, however, didn't seem to mind at all.

"I didn't see you this morning because I was late. I made myself late."

"To uni?"

"No, to work. I took things slow and then I was late. My boss got mad at me. But he's a little bitch so I don't care. Taking it slow was nice."

"I like taking things slow. Everything feels like it could be in space."

Church had no idea what the guy meant but he laughed regardless. The drink really had gone to his head.

"Yeah, you're right. You're so right. See, you get it. And that's awesome."

There was something satisfying about not really having to worry about what he said, it was the first time in a good while where the whole 'repeating the week' ordeal didn't bother him. Life felt so far away, and it was really nice. The blonde was still talking bit Church had zoned out, watching him talk but not listening as though the guy had been muted.

"What's your name?" Church asked, suddenly snapping into reality once more.

"Michael."

"Church . . . Yeah."

Michael paused and then smiled. "Like the building?"

"Er, yeah. Well no. Cause Church is actually my surname."

"Why'd you use your last name?"

Church paused and sighed. "Cause my name is fucking stupid . . . Leonard."

Michael didn't seem to notice and instead was rambling on, seemingly to himself since Church had once again retreated into his own head.

". . . If somebody called me by my last name."

"What's your surname?"

"Caboose."

Church wanted to smother some sort of laughter, but it didn't work, he couldn't help it. On its own, well, it did sound ridiculous. After all, everybody he knew, including his own sister, called him by his surname on the request - and his surname was a freaking religious building.

"You know what, I'm going to call you that," Church announced loudly as the train pulled into the station. "I'm going to call you Caboose. Then we match."

Weirdly enough, Caboose seemed positively elated at the suggestion. So maybe something good came out of drunk talking to the person he always saw on a train platform.

* * *

The drinking wasn't worth it. A headache was not worth it and reminded Church why he didn't ever go out drinking - because he was a lightweight who suffered from the worst hangovers. Despite that he willingly went to work at the correct time, the slightly funky memories from yesterday filtering back to him slowly.

He'd really randomly began chatting with the blonde guy - Michael? Caboose? Whatever one it was - who honestly didn't seem all that bad, but it wasn't like he was wanting to make friends with him, but apparently drunk Church had - so that was something. He was so tired. He wanted to go home. Fuck work and fuck trains.

"Good morning."

He looked round to see Caboose smiling at him, the picture of absolutely sunshine and health whilst Church looked like he had been run over several times (which wasn't technically a lie - a very apt metaphor).

"Eh, it's been better."

"Why?"

"Because drinking on a Monday was a bad idea when you have four other days to get through." The end of his sentence was punctuated by a yawn. "Done and it's barely begun."

He just wanted to find somewhere to sit but the train, as usual, was packed and like usual, he found himself pushed up close to Caboose and like always made Church feel oddly short (5'9 was not short. It was a perfectly adequate height).

"Caboose, what height are you?"

"Six foot two."

Well then.

The two didn't talk much after that, the occasional chest bumping was a little awkward, Church was also so out of it - he felt like he was sleepwalking for the amount of self-awareness he had, so much for making a little effort - he was probably going to be worse off than the day before. If that was even possible and Church intended to prove it so.

By the time he actually made it to work, he was already ready to leave. It wasn't entirely because of the hangover, though that certainly didn't help, he'd just grown to hate the place a lot and it might have been down to the same work week and not ending. Or maybe he'd hated it all along and the redoing just made him realise the fact. He sat at his desk staring at the screen without doing anything. It didn't go unnoticed either.

"What's up with you?" Some co-worker, who Church never bothered to learn the name of, asked.

"Don't feel like it today," Church answered honestly.

"Well, that's too bad. Job's a job, buddy."

How fucking nice. He could have upped and left at that moment - instead he pulled through the rest of the day and trudged slowly to the train station. The whole day was depressing him - weighing down like a melancholy anchor and he was ready to have it over and done with.

Over and done with. Funny.

Very funny.

* * *

The rest of the week went slowly after that. Wednesday rolled around and was the only day that Church didn't share a platform with the blonde and, weirdly enough, he was a little disappointed about it. By the end of the week he was deflated and badly just wanted a rest - not that it was going to happen, instead, Church decided to take a rest for himself. Instead of doing the entire day of work, around lunch he feigned illness and left.

Just upped and left without really explaining why other than a vague 'not feeling great'. It wasn't like it mattered much, nothing had consequences anymore. He pottered around town a bit, getting lunch at a small cafe and generally pondered about what was going to send him back to the start again.

Another car. A bus? Maybe something else. Something fun perhaps. Either way, he knew it was coming. Then again, maybe if he wasn't in the area he couldn't be sent back! Perhaps it was that town that was cursed, that made sense . . . Right? Paying for his lunch, he began to head for the train station, it wasn't like he had much of a reason to hang about since he wasn't in work and maybe the walk would do him some good.

"I should leave early more often, the place is so empty," Church thought to himself as he passed through the station barriers without needing to wait or getting stuck behind people whose tickets didn't work. It was kinda nice. Checking what platform he was on, Church head across the bridge before stopping at the top of stairs looking down to the platform below. There were a group of guys standing around, even from his distance he could see the way they were swaying and stumbling. Drunk then. But what's more was he could see them standing hassling a group of university students who looked to becoming increasingly annoyed by the heckling. Which was entirely fair since nobody in their right mind enjoys being hassled by drunken assholes (plus it was barely 5 and who in their right mind was drunk at 5 and trying to pick fights with a bunch of students).

Church could see Caboose standing amongst the crowd, looking completely not bothered by the idiots around him - the idiots, on the other hand, seemed very annoyed by the way Caboose was not bothering. They were trying to get his attention, shoving and knocking into him. Church had come to a stop at the end of the platform. He had a strange feeling that something would happen if he didn't say or do something. But what?

"Hey assholes, mind leaving them alone."

Well, that would do it. The drunks looked up towards Church before laughing.

"Fuck off."

How friggin original. Sighing Church began to walk towards the crowd, his green eyes darting between Caboose and the, presumed, leader of the drunks. He stopped just short of the group.

"You want to leave them alone?"

"You mind fucking off. Nobody asked you."

"Why don't you just run along and stop fucking around with a bunch of kids. Fucking idiots," that last part Church mumbled, though not quite quiet enough because the leading drunk turned his attention away from Caboose and the other students, pushing past them to get to Church who took a few steps back - an action the leader noticed.

"Can talk big, huh?" he shoved Church roughly.

"Don't fucking touch me," Church snapped.

"Huh, what you going to do about it? Huh, well?"

Truth be told he hadn't thought that far ahead really. He was kinda hoping that is mere presence would be enough to scare the guys off - yeah fat chance really but it had been worth the shot. A shot which had completely backfired on him because now that drunken fury had turned towards Church.

He should have probably expected that instead of thinking that the drunken idiots would simply bow and leave without a fuss. That would have been too much to ask for. Church stood his ground though, some sort of skewed moral standing keeping himself from running away since it wasn't like he had that much of an emotional attachment to any of the students standing staring at him with a look of confused awe on their faces.

"How about not being drunk during the day and annoying people who never did shit to you."

"Fuck off."

"Make me bitch."

Okay, now he was just trying his luck. Which had completely run out (as was totally going to happen) as the drunk grabbed a hold of Church's jacket to pull him closer.

"Fucking let go of me."

After that everything seemed to move in fast forward making it hard for Church to really understand what was happening. One second he was pushing the drunkard off him who stumbled into his friends and in the next multiple people were yelling and shoving. The idiot Church had been having a scuffle with was suddenly back up in his face, shouting and swearing, prodding his grubby fingers into Church's chest. Which Church kept pushing off him like he was waving off some annoying fly, taking a few steps back.

That only served to annoy the guy more who again grabbed a hold of Church - tightly. It was a struggle to get him off. Some of the university students had jumped in, pulling at the guy only to be hassled by the rest of the group. Church, meanwhile, was attempting to be wrestled by the guy who had a hold of him. The guy was clearly trying to get Church on the ground, but it wasn't working, and he only resulted in being pushed around not down. Caboose was pulling at the guy trying to get him to let go of Church - but resulted in him being shoved dangerously close to the edge of the platform. Church, meanwhile, was scrabbling at fingers, trying to unlace them from his jacket but they weren't budging, instead, he just kept getting pushed further back.

People were shouting, and hands were grabbing at him as suddenly the ground disappeared beneath his feet and for a moment Church thought the guy actually managed to get him down before the feeling of wind rushed by him, the look on the groups face said it all as the alarm on his watch was the last thing he heard.

Caboose was staring down at him. One arm outstretched. Everything was glitching in Church's head, a feeling of familiarity.

Of fear.

And of a train rushing by.

His body didn't even hit the tracks.

* * *

Church jolted awake, a sick feeling in his stomach . . . Nope, that wasn't just a feeling. He scrambled out his bed to spend the next five minutes heaving into the toilet.

Had he just . . . Died?

No, that couldn't be right. If he had died then he wouldn't be there, in that moment. It had to be a dream. One really bad dream that was just intent on fucking with him until the end. There was no logical explanation for him to have been hit by a train - so it had to be a dream . . . A dream right.

Fuck.

He'd died and came back.

Everything suddenly made sense. He wasn't being pulled back into the beginning of the week. He was dying. Over and over, it just took until getting hit by a train to realise it. But if that was the reason . . . Did that mean? A feeling of ice settled into Church's gut . . . Caboose . . . Was that why he was so drawn to him?

The accident at the station.

It had to be.

And that meant.

Fuck.

"You okay?"

Church looked round to Tex who was standing in the bathroom doorway.

"Am I dead?" He just wanted to make sure.

"No. I'm sure you're not. But you might be late."

"I think I'm going to take a day off. Not feeling too great."

Which he did.

For the next day Church spent the time lying around and contemplating his own mortality. It was a little . . . Scary. He never wanted to consider that – or at least not at that part of his life. Save that for when he was old and crabby (and boy did he plan to be a crabby old man). But nope, that had apparently come early - like an unwanted pregnancy - and Church was not having it. Done might have been one way to put how he was feeling. He was so done with whatever the universe handing out to him.

He had freaking died for fuck's sake and if that was the same for every other same - then he'd died multiple times. And that wasn't cool (well it kind of was but mostly wasn't) because no god above should be jerking somebody around like that. But what about Caboose . . . if he had always accidentally been shoved in front of a train - did that mean the same for him? Being killed and brought back again and again . . . Did he have any idea? It was the weird philosophical side of Church talking that he usually kept locked away for that reason, gave too much depth to things.

Scary.

He barely noticed that he was pacing around his living room before stopping and flopping down onto the couch to stare up at the cracked ceiling plaster.

He made his mind up.

Things needed to change.

* * *

He had a plan.

It made sense that Caboose . . . well . . . if it weren't for him then the whole thing wouldn't be happening. So, if nothing bad happened to him, then in return the week should stop looping or whatever it was doing.

Basically, keep Caboose out of harms way on Friday. It was a lot easier said than done, because he, like Tucker and Wash and Tex and everybody else, didn't have memories of what happened (maybe a good thing, poor kid). This meant Church had to start from scratch, just by talking to him. Engaging with him. Then make sure he doesn't go to the train station on Friday. A week was not a lot of time to gain the trust of somebody - but heck, if people could have one-night stands, then Church was sure as heck he could manage to get Caboose to trust him enough.

After all, he was kinda an alright guy. Easy enough to talk to - unlike Church who was not. He was the difficult part. But it would have to be overcome for the greater good! For Church's sanity, it would have to be done.

Even if it took him forever.

* * *

Attempt 1: Failure. Crushed by a tractor.

Attempt 2: Failure. Hit by a car.

Attempt 3: Failure. Crushed between a bus and a car.

Attempt 4: In progress

Things were not going well. But he was learning. After talking and trying and failing (oh boy did he fail) things were actually progressing. Small arbitrary facts seemed to ease things along. Caboose had a big family, lots of older sisters, he studied mechanical engineering at uni, was a member of the athletics team and was in his 3rd year looking to do his honours year. It might have been pointless details but for Church, it was everything he could catalogue for later. Just in case.

Eventually, Church decided, a very snap decision at that. He had beginning to run out of options - he didn't want to spend eternity chasing after something that might not happen. Putting all his faith into one more week as it rolled around again. Monday, making sure he kept a bit of distance away from Caboose - putting all his false emotions into subtle glances and a small, forced smile, act a little shy (not shy but not as forward as usual), just enough to get his attention. Catch his eye - like he had so many times before. Just needed to do it all over again.

Tuesday: Move a bit closer, not quite as close as possible. Gaining trust through his eyes - his eyes were really blue, Church had noticed. Again, a small smile turned into a nod of the head - Caboose smiled back this time. Don't talk, just watch and make sure everything falls into place.

Wednesday: Make the plan.

18:26 - Church: You up for going out tomorrow?

18:32 - Tucker: Don't you have work on Friday?

18:37 - Church: Yeah, so what. Yes or no?

18:41 - Tucker: Sure, whatever.

18:49 - Church: Wash can come if he wants.

One more day to let everything fall into place.

* * *

Thursday: make sure you're near him.

Sure enough, Caboose was on the train platform just as Church got off to wait for their connection. He made an effort to look Caboose's way and smile a little - he'd got a lot better at faking smiles over the last while without making it seem creepy. So that was a plus. Shifting a little closer, Church kept glancing towards Caboose who eventually looked around and gave one of his customary smiles, his blue eyes bright in the early morning sun.

"You always get the same train as me."

"Yeah, I work in town. I know you go to the university," Church nodded to the printed hoodie Caboose wore. "I noticed you on the train before . . ." well that didn't sound the slightest bit creepy. What no, not creepy at all. But it also kind of made him sound like some sort of dumb lovestruck teenager - noticed, what sort of bullshit was that. Church had noticed Caboose a long time ago. Why had it become so difficult to talk all over a sudden and so hard to look Caboose in the eye. Was it because of what could happen if he continued to fuck up instead of fixing things. Perhaps, either way, it was beginning to weigh him down. More than the whole dying and waking up again - that could be water off some ducks back compared to the sudden herculin task of stopping a person from dying. It just wasn't cool, and Church was sick of it.

Caboose deserved better.

"What's your name?" Church asked since he hadn't done that (well he had, but nobody was to know that besides Church and that didn't matter).

"Michael. Yours?"

"Church . . . "

He'd had this conversation before.

Caboose paused and then smiled like he had done so many times before. "Like the building?"

"Er, yeah. Well no. Cause Church is actually my . . . surname."

"Why'd you use your last name?"

Church paused and sighed. "Cause my name is fucking stupid . . ." Church forced a laugh. "Maybe I should call you by your surname so that we match . . . what's your surname?"

"Caboose."

It actually kind of hurt to have that conversation again . . .

The two continued to talk once the train was into the station and all the way to the destination. Caboose was just easy to talk to and that didn't change much - even if what he said was sometimes nonsensical, going off on tangents that didn't seem to line up with what the conversation had been before, but for some reason, it didn't matter all that much. It was a rather short journey from where they were going, and Church knew he was running out of time. As the train pulled into the final stop, it was pretty much a now or never deal. He had to do it, lest doing it all over again from the beginning.

And fuck, he didn't want to do it again!

Before leaving the station, Church paused, calling out to Caboose before he disappeared into the town. The blonde looked back towards Church.

"Hey, em . . . I was . . . I'm going out with a couple of friends tonight . . . If you want to come, then you can."

"Yeah, okay!"

He just had to nail that night.

* * *

"We should go to a club," Tucker suggested.

"We're not going to a club."

They ended up in a club – much to both Church's and Wash's annoyance.

Clubbing and shit like that was more Tucker's thing and somehow always managed to get his way in that respect. Church hadn't exactly planned a night in a stuffy nightclub with the music too loud and the drinks too expensive. Tucker was enthused however and weirdly enough so was Caboose which somewhat shocked Church but also decided not to question it. The group kept themselves mostly towards the back of the room, closest to the bar (Church had a feeling that he'd need the drink to get through the night).

Tucker spent most of the time dancing, weirdly enough with Caboose while Church and Wash attempted – very much attempted since the music didn't make it particularly easy – to have a conversation and on the side, make fun of Tucker who clearly thought he was cool but from the looks people were giving him, he just . . . just no. Love must have been blind because, despite it all, Church could see the small smile Wash had whilst watching Tucker – Church just didn't seem to get it at all. Eventually, Tucker came back to join them, leaving Caboose in his own world.

"Go dance."

"What? No, I don't dance."

"You will tonight." Tucker proceeded to shove Church close enough to Caboose for the blonde to notice before retreating himself back to Wash's side, Church could see him whisper something to Wash who shook his head as Tucker laughed. Honestly, he wondered why he was even friends with those guys. Church looked towards Caboose.

"You're on your own. I can't dance."

"I'll show you then."

Church could barely hear what he said but suddenly Caboose had his hands on Church and was trying to get him to dance with him. He got way too close in way to short a timespan and in that moment, Church's brain completely short-circuited.

What was happening?

He could see Tucker and Wash laughing at them in the background (more so Tucker than Wash) but Church couldn't really find it in him to care. He was too busy focusing on Caboose who, honestly seemed to get taller every time they met, had his hands on Church's waist. It was very hard to get Church flustered - like very freaking hard, impossible almost. But in that moment, staring at Caboose, it just fucking hit him. And for once in his current life - it wasn't a vehicle that hit him.

Feelings.

So maybe Church might have had a tiny, little, possibly growing, crush (fuck what was he, 12?) on Caboose. It was a case of who could blame him though, the blonde was kind of a strange sort of beautiful. And not in the cliché 'god he was so beautiful' way. Like, legit, stunning. And Church never described somebody as stunning, beautiful or whatever synonyms could be used. Maybe it was the guilt though - about what was happening . . . He was trying not to dwell on it. He was just wanting to enjoy this moment.

Then, rather suddenly, out of the blue Caboose did something that Church really was not expecting. They had been mostly holding onto each other and ignoring the people around them when Caboose, quite legitimately, swept Church off his feet. He got freaking dipped. Dipped in the middle of a fucking club. You don't dip people at a club . . . well, apparently Caboose did and Church. He wasn't handling it well - it was just too freaking cute! Caboose had these crazy blue eyes that, thank you nightclub lighting, look way more intense.

"Um . . ." It was the only thing that Church could stumble out as he could feel his face heating up as Caboose slowly raised him back up. "Ugh . . . I'll be back."

And Church ran. Well, not ran, but quickly made an exit for outside. He was too hot. It was too awkward. Fuck. Feelings, fuck. It wasn't fair, he was just meant to save the guy from dying - befriend him and move on - not fall for him. Which is exactly what he had done, went and fallen head first. It wasn't that he was exactly against relationships or whatever, it was more like he just didn't feel the need to be in one. Life could be perfectly fulfilling on its own without needing to deal with another person's emotional state.

So yeah, he might have been freaking out a little. But that was totally okay, totally normal. Not like dying again and again messed you up any - Church was just fine.

It took him a while to go back inside and brushed off "concerns" from Tucker ("What? Didn't like being the bottom huh Church?") and genuine concern from Wash ("You sure you're okay? You've been acting kind of weird recently. . ."). But he brushed it off with a simple laugh and a "No, I just got too warm." After all, it wasn't like they needed to know or probably would care enough about what kind of crisis he was going through. Well, Wash maybe, but even then - it didn't concern them.

The rest of the night progressed without much incident and Church managed to contain his gay crisis (but fuck he couldn't quite forget how nice Caboose's eyes were). Tucker eventually left with Wash in tow and by the look on Tucker's face, somebody was getting lucky that night - not that Church really wanted to dwell on that because . . . just, ew, no. Which left him and Caboose to walk back to the train station together and despite having spent the night in each other's company it was kind of . . . awkward. Well not awkward, because Caboose was too chill to make things awkward, but the fact that it was Thursday night and Church, he had one chance to fix everything or else all the work he had put in that week would go to waste and Caboose . . .

He didn't want to think about that.

Eventually, Church's train pulled into the station and he had to let go of the night. He glanced towards Caboose who was studying the arrivals board but quickly glanced Church's way.

"My train's in . . . So yeah." What else was there to say. It suddenly felt awkward, something that it hadn't been for the entire night. How did you leave somebody after a . . . date? Was it a date. Had it been a date. No, surely not . . . Was it! Church really hadn't thought of it that way.

Maybe though?

He stood for a few seconds when suddenly Caboose pulled Church into a tight hug. It made Church kind of want to pull away and at the same time not do so. It was solid and warm and sent jolts if guilt coursing through Church - a feeling he was unaccustomed to - so instead of pulling away from hugs like he normally would; he held on tight. Silently praying that neither of them would have to do it all over again.

He was about to head towards the train before pausing and turning around to face Caboose once again.

"Tomorrow . . . Do you want to hang out once you're done with uni . . ." He tailed off after that but Caboose smiled brightly.

"Yeah, okay!"

He had one more day to fix everything.

* * *

Waking up on Friday was easy. Church was filled with a crazy amount of determination and despite knowing that the day would be absolutely shit - the fact that he could change everything was pushing him through it all. He deliberately got an earlier train, avoiding Caboose in the morning would make things easier in the long run.

Just in case.

No. There would be not another "just in case". This was going to end - he wasn't going to put up with it for another week or longer. He wasn't going to let all the effort he had put in go to waste. He just didn't want to start all over again. It wasn't fair on either him or Caboose. Especially Caboose who had no idea what had been happening. God must hate them both.

The day passed by as slowly as it usually did on a Friday. Around 2, when Church was on a brief lunch break, his phone buzzed. Normally it was something that he'd ignore, not really caring much about the people trying to contact him (most of the time it was shitty spam emails) but instead, he found several rapid fire texts from Caboose - who Church completely forgot he'd given his number on Thursday.

10:14 - Caboose: CHURCH!

10:37 - Caboose: CHURCH!

11:13 - Caboose: MY OROFRESSOR IS MEAN!

11:38 - Caboose: HOW R YOU?

11:47 - Caboose: I HOPE YOUR HAVING A NICE DAY!

12:05 - Caboose: IM LLOKING FORWARD 2 HANGING OUT WTH YOU L8R! :D

Church smiled and sighed. Usually he would ignore stupid messages like that - god knows he got them enough from Tucker - but instead, in the spirit of actually making an effort and things, he shot back one message:

13:37 - Church: Looking forward to it too

He actually kind of was. In a weird sort of way - and it wasn't out of a morbid desire to keep himself alive (though it would be a lie to say that it wasn't at least a tiny part of it).

* * *

Caboose was already waiting when Church gout out of work, he gave a wild wave when he saw the other approach and Church couldn't help but smile. Caboose just looked so happy to see Church, nobody ever looked that happy - not even his own friends who he had known for years. It was kind of weird. He tried not to let it bother him that much. He just wanted to enjoy his time with Caboose, it wasn't like he really had a plan. Maybe they could get dinner or something, just keeping him away from roads or traffic and especially the train station.

"How was your day?" Church asked.

"It was good. We got out early from our lecture and the seminar . . . we mostly talked."

Caboose just seemed to be enthused about everything and Church tried to think if he had ever been like that, even as a kid but he couldn't remember which was true of most things. He'd mostly forgot anything about his childhood, didn't need to focus on that - especially in that moment, he just wanted to focus on Caboose.

"I was thinking we could get dinner? I know this Italian place. If you've not eaten that is . . ."

"That sounds good," and Caboose smiled, one infectious enough that Church couldn't help but smile too and the pair began to head off. They walked close together, talking about arbitrary things, university and work. The night before and how Caboose really liked Tucker and Wash and that they should hang out again sometime.

"I'm really glad we got to hang out."

Church could only nod, his own selfish agenda suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Well, was it really that he was doing it for a good cause, for both Caboose's sake and also his own. Stopping Caboose from being killed by some drunken jackass on a train and to get him out from living the same week over and over - Church couldn't wait to see another weekend. He'd never take them for granted again after this whole thing was over and done with.

They were about half way to the restaurant when the alarm on Church's watch began to go off. he looked down at it and then around him, sure enough a car which seemingly had come out of nowhere was now speeding towards them. Shaking his head, Church grabbed onto Caboose and began to pull him down the road as though he could out run a car just through the power of sheer annoyance and determination. Looking over his shoulder, Church made a very snap decision and shoved Caboose roughly out of the way.

The last thing Church saw was Caboose's eyes, full of hurt and fear. Church could just hope that maybe . . . just maybe, he had done the right thing.

That something might change.

* * *

It was a slow process. Waking up that was. It never got easier the more it was done, if anything it kept getting more and more difficult. He'd failed again and would probably go on failing until the end of time - whenever that might be. And Church was done.

He just wanted it to end.

In a few moments his alarm would go off and another Monday would begin. He would catch a train. Caboose would be there. And he'd just keep trying and trying. In the end, it would never be enough. Maybe that's the way it would be, the way it was meant to be. Perhaps he was never meant to get by, this was his destiny. To be a never-ending failure. In his job, in his life and in his attempts to save somebody who, before all the shit happened, he would never have thought to talk to. It was funny how life worked like that.

So, he waited for his alarm to signal the beginning of another attempt.

But it never came. In fact, there was almost no noise at all, it was quiet. An almost dead silence and it felt really off somehow - unreal. Maybe he'd finally kicked the bucket properly and whatever deity above decided to punish him, stuck in a weird endless void. Seemed about right, after all, he couldn't save just one person. What right did he have to be saved? But it also didn't make sense, he was thinking. Dead people didn't think. So, he couldn't be dead then, maybe it was just night time. Waking up early than normal - that had happened before (only once, and he'd spent that time throwing up - not the most pleasant of time). So, if he was thinking and remembering; then he had to be alive right?

Or at least he thought that's what meant he was alive. Some basic human functions meant he was living. But at the same time his body felt detached and weird, as though it wasn't a part of him. That strange way where it felt like his skin was tight and double the size it should be - a dead feeling in his fingers. The blood flow slowly returning. It was still quiet and hard to move but he was getting there. Feeling returning to his body, fingers flexing and eyes fluttering open to met with . . .

Darkness.

Well not entirely.

There was a small amount of line trickling in across a plain tiled ceiling. That was weird. He didn't remember going home. In fact, he wasn't home. Home didn't have a square tile ceiling. Did Tex change the ceiling? He'd need to ask . . . About what? Ceiling. Something.

Church felt weird. Like he was stuck underwater. He could feel something touching him, kind of. His body felt thick and heavy. His green eyes swiveled to the side. A guy dressed in purple scrubs (might have been purple but it was a bit too dark to tell) was talking to him - or at least it looked like she was. Kind of, possibly. Either way - her mouth might have been moving but nothing was coming out.

"This is weird," Church thought, his brain functioning about as well as a piece of ham, before falling asleep.

* * *

The next time Church opened his eyes he was decisively more conscious but still stupidly tired, sluggish and annoyed. Mostly because people kept asking him the same questions.

"What's your full name?"

"Leonard Church."

"What date is it?"

"Friday 14th April."

The people always got quiet after that one. Looking at him weirdly until, after much annoyance and another session of 'what generic question will be asked', Church decided to ask his own question.

"That's not right? Is it. That's why you look at me funny."

At that point Church was pretty done and he had only been awake a short while. From what he could garner was that apparently, he had been in some sort of accident - he couldn't remember much of it though. It all felt like a really weird dream, something on the edge of his conscious that he couldn't quite grasp because it was all muddled into what was fake and what was real. The accident had been real. But everything else . . . that was up for debate.

Maybe he'd just been in a coma for a really long time and he was just reliving a week he'd had and thought he was living it over and over again. Because brains were weird and could totally do something like that. After all, it wasn't like Church had any idea about medical science so who was to say he was wrong (well doctors perhaps, but he didn't know any doctors to discredit him).

"You've been in a coma for a week."

Oh . . . well then.

"Really Doc?"

Apparently so. It was kind of hard to wrap his head around, the idea that he'd just missed an entire week. He felt laggy and weird, still stuck in a time he no longer was. But at the same time, something also made him feel increasingly free of whatever had been anchoring him down before. Clear of a coma fogged mind. Then something occurred to him.

"Hey Doc, what happened to the kid I was with?"

"I'm not actually sure. I can find out if you want."

"Yes!"

He was ready for it to be over.

* * *

The wait could have killed Church, it was the last moment between having successfully done what he set out to. In a way, he could have assumed that, given that is wasn't Monday again, things were back to normal - but there was still a tight feeling in his chest that he couldn't seem to shake. That something had gone wrong and no amount of fixing or attempted fixing would solve. But that was ridiculous . . . Right? Giving the situation things totally had to have gone the way they wanted. He might have been exhausted to the point of wanting to pass out, but Church held on long enough for the doctor to come back to tell him any sort of news.

It could have been a few days that passed with how slowly time passed – sitting about in a bed didn't exactly help the matter either – eventually the doctor returned, and Church felt like he could breathe again.

"So, Michael Caboose, was the person you were wondering about?" Church couldn't get used to hearing Caboose as Michael, it just sounded so . . . ordinary for somebody like Caboose. "From the looks of things, he's fine. If anything, you saved his life."

Saved his life . . . Caboose was alive. Living. Breathing.

"Fuck yeah!"

"Pardon?"

"What . . . oh . . ." yeah, that happened, and Church could feel the weight, the worry, all of it, lift off him. He'd done something right. Caboose was definitely alive – there was no doubt about that. After everything – all the stupidity life had thrown at him. It was finally fucking over, and Church wanted to celebrate. Sleeping came first though.

Sleep sounded good.

* * *

"I thought you had got yourself killed."

"Maybe I did and I'm a motherfucking ghost."

Tex was decisively not happy about the whole thing – especially the whole thing where her twin brother was in a coma for a week. That wasn't exactly something she had loved finding out on a Friday afternoon, kind of put a damper on her weekend. Ruined any plans she had. As typical, the first thing they did when Tex came to visit was argue and even though it was a normal part of life for them, the seemingly hostile tone of things drew a few concerned looks from nurses and doctors who weren't exactly keyed in on the twin's relationship.

"You're not allowed to die before me okay."

"Bitch, who gave you permission to decide when I die?"

It was only after that did the two look around to see an incredibly confused but amused looking Caboose standing at the door of the room. Other than his face being slightly bruised and scratched along with the white of a support bandage poking out from the sleeve of his jacket, Caboose looked far better than Church could have hoped – he smiled widely towards Tex and Church.

"That the guy you saved?" Tex asked.

"Yeah, it is."

Church couldn't help but smile, seeing Caboose standing in the doorway – his own stupid grin radiating sunshine – and despite being stuck in a hospital bed, Church felt content.

He'd made a difference.

* * *

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